Bells
Naught but an empty promise—bells
Ring out, pealing loud and long
In every place I don’t belong
While I in silence dwell
Waiting for the wonder to rise
Yet mist creeping o’er dell and hill
Consumes a day so sad and still
And darkness fills these eyes
Night descends like …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Limning the Ordinary to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.